Milk
by suikalopolis
Summary: AU Simply said, it all started with a carton of milk on one very strange morning. Kevin/Ben


**Summary:** [AU] Waking up had never been much of a problem to Ben. It was always the same ritual for the past year since he attended Bellwood University – wake up at some ungodly hour, brush teeth and rummage through the fridge for the milk carton. This particular morning, however, was just downright weird. [Kevin/Ben]

**A/N:** I am IN LIKE with this pairing. As such, I felt the urge to write a little Bevin in order to satisfy the shameless fangirl within me. Do pardon the major OOC-ness that might ensue in this little one-shot due to the fact that I've only got into Ben 10 recently so my portrayal of the characters might be slightly (read: totally) OFF. Plus, Cartoon Network Asia takes FOREVER to show the latest Ben 10: Alien Force episodes. I'm really sick of watching the 'Be-Knighted' and 'Plumbers Helpers' episodes. I swear I've already watched them seven times or more. D8

Firstly, many thanks to my sister for drawing this scene ala manga-esque for me as a birthday present! And kudos to my dahling di rumah **Koshi Noriko** who is still on the daring expedition of scouring for a 'good' Bevin fic.

**Disclaimer:** Ben 10 Alien Force solely belongs to Man of Action. I merely kidnapped the two guys to play with them for a while.

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**- M I l k -**

a B**e**V**i**n on**es**hot

By **s**** u I k a's** **w I n d** o _f_ t h e **c e l e s t I a l**

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There was a slight stiffening of shoulders.

An unintelligent murmur.

And the sudden brush of calloused fingers, long coarsened from years of handling rusty spanners and various what-its and thingamabobs, across the back of a hand.

"Kevin…?"

Ben glanced over his shoulder, his green eyes curiously peering up at the older boy standing behind him whose bleary dark eyes were dazedly focused on their entwined hands…or rather, the carton of milk that was clasped between Ben's fingers.

"Um…"

Another indistinct mumble escaped through the seams of thin lips in a rush of warm, moist air as Kevin suddenly leaned forward, his broad chest pressing against the shorter boy's back whilst his larger hand comfortably settled above the brunet's own, fingers tightening their mutual grasp around the cold carton.

"Wait! What are you–"

Suddenly, a head of tousled black hair awkwardly lunged forward and Ben could only stare in shock as their joined hands were raised and a pair of lips tightly pursed together in a strangely alluring way in order to catch the smooth, creamy liquid that sluggishly poured out of the small outlet of the carton.

Ben's mouth dropped open in disbelief as he shamelessly watched the way the other's Adam's apple bobbed with every gulp in morbid fascination. "Hey…I was drinking that!"

A small pause.

And a garbled slur which suspiciously sounded like a "So?" was made.

A huff. "Well, you could have asked if you wanted some!"

"Hn." Kevin merely shrugged at this and reclined forward in order to down the drink once again, his collarbone bumping uncomfortably against the boy's right shoulder. This time, however, Ben jerked their hands away, earning himself a displeased grunt from the ruffian.

"_Dude_, get your own milk! Besides–" the brunet protested as he struggled to direct the carton towards his own lips, only to frown in annoyance when Kevin also tugged at it. "–what are _you_ doing in my apartment – no – _how_ did youget in here? Because I certainly don't remember inviting you over and – no, Kevin! Let – _ah_!"

_Fumble. Fumble._

A rough yank.

"Give it– _shi–!"_

And cold milk splashed down the front of Ben's lime-green button-down shirt in a delightful dribbling mess, causing the younger male to squawk in utter shock as he stared down at the growing wet splodge.

_No way!_

Green eyes widened with disbelief.

This shirt was the one Gwen had given him just two days ago! Why, if she discovered that he had clumsily ruined the ridiculously expensive garment she claimed to have wrestled seven shoppers off in order to dress him up in 'real clothes', she'd beat him into a bloody pulp in two seconds flat! And the fact that she had recently been promoted to 3rd Dan in Karate was not reassuring at all. Good gracious, he was only eighteen – there were still so many things he wanted to do, sights to see and–!

Ben's fingers suddenly loosened and the carton of milk which he had once tightly clutched beneath the older boy's longer fingers soon crashed onto the floor in a magnificent explosion of white splashes and streams.

"K-_Kevin!_"

"Hmm?"

"W-What…"

In a remarkable span of just three seconds, a brilliant shade of red had erupted across sun-kissed cheeks and a strangled choke was all the brunet managed to utter at that moment then when he felt his unexpected 'guest' (god knows when and how, let alone _why_ the older boy had sneaked into his apartment last night) suddenly and yet oh-so-nonchalantly lifted the hem of his shirt up, head peering over his shoulder in order to surmise the stain they (_he_, dammit! It's was all Kevin's fault!) had both accidentally made. Oh, and to shamelessly bare Ben's stomach for all to see.

The brunet's felt his eye twitch, his lips twisting into a comical lopsided smile as soon as his shoulders stiffened. His fingers tensed and trembled by his sides, itching to swat those prying hands away.

_What do you think you're _**doing**_?_

After a moment of lengthy scrutinising which consisted of too much blinking, Kevin hummed in understanding and simply mumbled out a jumbled string of murmurs which Ben had no intention (let alone any thought) to decipher. The young man was too busy gawking in horror at the hand that was now trying to lift his shirt a tad bit higher…and the arm that was currently snaking around his bare midriff, pulling him closer to the strong, muscular and _very _warm body.

"Ben…"

There was a hitching of breath.

A tentative moistening of dry, chapped lips.

And a rush of warm, moist air tinged with a scent of fresh milk caressed the shell of Ben's ear, triggering an involuntary shudder down his spine.

_Oh god…_

Fighting off the strange jitteriness that crept about his body when he felt Kevin's lips clumsily graze across his earlobe lightly, Ben pursed his lips into a taut line and stubbornly focused his gaze upon the mess on the floor as he fruitlessly fought the fierce blush that was rapidly spreading across his face and ears. "What?"

"…my place."

Green eyes blinked, at a loss. "Huh?" Bewildered, Ben glanced over his shoulder and soon found himself looking directly into Kevin's half-lidded eyes that were still fogged with sleepiness. "What did you say?"

A small grumble. And the older boy leaned forward and knocked his forehead against the brunet's own, his eyes narrowing a tad bit with annoyance as they bore into bright green ones. "This is _my_ place. _You_ stole my milk, dammit."

_Say WHAT?_

Ben frowned. "Excuse me? The last time I checked, _I'm _the one renting this place."

"Uh-huh. And the last time I checked, I have auto mags piled up on that counter."

"What are talking about? There are no…" Ben trailed off as soon as his eyes skimmed across the ridiculously cluttered kitchen counter and finally settled upon a jumbled stack of magazines that were precariously tilting to one side, their glossy covers proudly flaunting various models of sleek sport cars splashed in different awe-striking colours. Now, the last time the brunet had checked, his counter was spotlessly clean (due to Gwen's ceaseless rants on how filthy the male species were, thus prompting him to clear up his rat's nest of a kitchen in ten minutes tops before she could wallop him with one of the ridiculously thick textbooks he had borrowed from BU's library) and that he had never bought magazines about cars. Which clearly meant…

Ben narrowed his eyes. "You kidnapped me."

Rolling his own eyes, Kevin knocked his forehead against Ben's once again and scowled, clearly displeased at the fact that he had to put up with the boy's stubbornness (stupidity, more like) so early in the morning. "No. You sleepwalked."

There was a pregnant pause.

A pair of green eyes blinked. "I did?"

"Damn right, you did."

Another blink. Once. Twice. Make that three times.

And then…

A strange gurgle rolled forth and Ben stared at the taller boy in sheer mortification. "I-I-I did not!" he protested heatedly, his hands instantly latching onto those strong arms and he struggled to pry them off. He growled in frustration, however, when Kevin merely tightened his hold around the shorter boy. "Let go."

"Your left eye's twitching."

Ben frowned, mentally berating himself for forgetting how well Kevin could read him. He narrowed his eyes, casting the older boy a defiant look over his shoulder. "I don't–"

"You broke into my house last night, vomited out the twenty-seven Mr. Smoothy smoothies you had downed earlier on because you were moping over who-knows-what, took all the space and blankets of my bed, kept me awake with your constant stomach aches and whimpering, and now you've spilt my milk all over yourself and the floor." Kevin tugged the hem of the other's shirt, grimacing slightly at the deafening (though amusing) squawk that followed the action. "You owe me."

"But that – hey!" Ben tightened his grasp around Kevin's arms, abruptly stopping the upward motion they were currently taking. Right, holding Ben was one thing (for the brunet had grown slightly used to the other's weird tendencies of being physical with him over the years) but stripping him of his shirt was one big no-no. Sure, they were both guys but unlike Kevin, Ben wasn't very comfortable with walking around the house half-naked. Unlike the self-proclaimed epitome of prototypical masculinity (for he certainly looked the part – tall, well-built, dark and 'roguishly charming'), Ben preferred conservatism to exhibitionism (it was the result of being chastised by his mother at a young age whenever he tried to don a pair of trousers only – she reasoned that it simply promoted untidiness and laziness). Gritting his teeth in annoyance, Ben struggled to release himself from his captor's hold in a flurry of flailing arms and legs. "Cut it out, Kevin! This isn't funny so just–_whoa_!"

The room suddenly spun.

There was a clumsy staggering of bare feet.

A widening of green and brown eyes.

And, surprised by the sudden sense of nauseating vertigo which had impaled him as soon as Kevin roughly twirled him around, Ben blindly reached out and firmly latched his fingers around Kevin's strong arms in order to regain his balance as well as to prevent him from falling flat on his rear like an idiot. Scowling up at the older boy, he parted his lips to freely express his utmost displeasure towards the older boy's manhandling…

Only to stop, heated words abruptly dying on his tongue, when he felt a pair of cool lips – _milk, I can taste fresh milk_ – firmly press against his own.

Silence.

There was a twitch of fingers.

A stiffening of shoulders.

And the tightening of bold calloused hands around thin arms.

Seemingly encouraged by the lack of reaction from the younger boy, Kevin merely leaned closer and moulded their lips comfortably together with a tilt of his head, parting his lips a tad bit more in order to relish Ben's own warm and delightfully moist ones. He smirked.

_Perfect fit._

Eyes widening in disbelief as fingers trembled against warm firm skin, Ben's train of thought derailed and plummeted into the metaphorical ocean as soon as he heard a muffled but devastatingly _satisfied_ grunt from his friend as soon as their lips parted a little bit more and – _oh._

Green eyes gradually slipped closed.

And Ben felt his hands bury themselves into tousled locks of dark hair as Kevin drew them closer and deepened their kiss in the most spine-tingling, mind-reeling, heart-throbbing way.

Milk tastes really good, doesn't it?


End file.
